Another Slave Day
The next day brought with it a familiar event at Arcanum Isle: Slave Day. It was a day where slaves were brought out, displayed, and sold to students, faculty, and others who frequented the school. The atmosphere in the school shifted slightly, as it always did on these days, with an undercurrent of anticipation and curiosity among those who participated.
Harry, now more accustomed to the ways of this world, decided to go out and observe the proceedings. He wasn't particularly interested in acquiring another slave, but he felt compelled to understand more about how this part of society functioned. After all, his role in Morgana's Seat had brought him into close contact with these practices, and he wanted to be informed.
The courtyard where the slaves were displayed was bustling with activity. Sellers had set up their stalls, each trying to attract the attention of potential buyers with the qualities and skills of their slaves. The slaves themselves stood silently, their eyes downcast, waiting for their fate to be decided by the highest bidder.
Harry walked through the market, observing the proceedings with a neutral expression. He saw a variety of slaves—some trained in specific magical skills, others bred for physical labor or domestic tasks. Despite the variety, Harry didn't feel the pull or interest that he had once experienced when he first encountered Talon.
As Harry wandered through the market, he overheard conversations between students and sellers.
"How much for this one?" a student asked, pointing to a young woman standing in front of a stall. She had a blank, almost glazed look in her eyes.
"That one's good with basic spells and herb gathering," the seller replied, his voice gruff. "Five hundred golden stars, no less."
The student frowned. "Five hundred? For just herb gathering? That's too much."
The seller shrugged. "Supply and demand, lad. Either you pay or move on."
Harry moved closer to the seller, interested in hearing more about his methods. "Excuse me," he began, "could you tell me more about the training these slaves go through?"
The seller turned to Harry, sizing him up. "Depends on what you want 'em for," he said. "We've got slaves trained in potion-making, hunting, housework, you name it. Each one's put through rigorous training, both to learn their tasks and to know their place."
"And how do you decide which training to give them?" Harry asked, his tone casual but probing.
The seller smirked. "Ah, that's the art of it, isn't it? Some slaves come with a natural inclination, and you just enhance that. Others, you mold from scratch. Takes a good eye to know who's worth the time."
Harry nodded, trying to maintain his composure despite the unsettling reality of the conversation. "And where do they come from? Are they all captured, or are some born into it?"
"A bit of both," the seller replied. "Some are born into servitude, like their parents before them. Others, well, they get picked up here and there—raids, debt settlements, you know how it goes."
"Thanks for the information," Harry said, stepping away to avoid any further engagement. He needed time to digest what he'd heard.
He continued to walk through the market, observing more interactions. He saw another student, a girl from his Necromancy class, haggling with a seller over a slave who was advertised as having a "natural affinity for dark magic."
"This one has potential," the seller was saying. "With the right training, he could be quite valuable to someone in your field."
"I suppose," the girl replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "But I've heard rumors that he's prone to resistance. I'd need assurances he won't cause trouble."
The seller chuckled. "That's what training is for, my dear. I assure you, he'll be as compliant as a well-trained dog once we're done with him."
Harry turned away, feeling a mixture of disgust and resignation. The conversations around him highlighted the cold practicality with which people viewed the slave trade. For many here, it was just another part of life.
After spending some time in the market, Harry decided he had learned enough for the day. With no particular slave catching his eye and no desire to make a purchase, he left the courtyard and returned to his normal routine.
Later in the afternoon, Harry joined his friends in the library to work on their assignments. The room was filled with the quiet rustle of pages turning and the occasional whisper as students discussed their work.
Lysandra glanced up from her book and raised an eyebrow at Harry. "So, did you buy yourself a new servant?" she asked, her tone light but curious.
Harry shook his head. "No, I wasn't interested in getting another slave," he replied. "I just wanted to see how the whole thing worked."
Selene looked up from her scrolls, her expression contemplative. "It's not easy to see, is it? I've always found Slave Day to be... unsettling."
Cyrus, who had been writing furiously, paused and looked up. "It's part of the world we live in," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "We can't change that. We can only try to navigate it the best we can."
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I get that. But understanding it doesn't make it any easier to accept."
Lysandra sighed, closing her book. "We've all had to make peace with it in our own ways. But enough about that—let's focus on these assignments before Professor Ashbourne gives us even more to do."
The group nodded in agreement, and the conversation shifted back to their studies, the intensity of Slave Day slowly fading from their minds as they immersed themselves in their work.
The day ended quietly, with Harry returning to his dormitory after his final class. Talon, as always, was there to assist him, having prepared everything for the evening. The two exchanged few words, both content to let the day's events pass without further discussion.
"Talon," Harry said as he settled into his chair by the fire, "thank you for taking care of everything today. It's been... a lot to process."
Talon nodded, his expression understanding. "It's my duty, Master Harry. I'm here to serve and support you."
Harry smiled faintly. "And you do it well, Talon. I'm grateful."
As the evening wore on, Harry allowed himself to relax, the quietness of the night providing a stark contrast to the earlier activity of Slave Day. He knew that there would be many more days like this, filled with the unsettling blend of normalcy and brutality that defined this world. But for now, he focused on the tasks at hand, content to let the day end on a peaceful note.